


Hoops

by FievreAlgide



Category: French Revolution RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 12:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21320191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FievreAlgide/pseuds/FievreAlgide
Summary: Robespierre helps Saint-Just to take off his earrings. (Old fic repost.)
Relationships: Maximilien Robespierre/Louis Antoine de Saint-Just
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Fleeting and Frivolous Mundane Moments in the Life of Two Otherwise Very Serious Revolutionaries





	Hoops

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on LiveJournal on April 12 2009.

Robespierre observed Saint-Just as he bent forward to reach his left ankle, to bring it up his right knee and to pull off his boot. The older man observed, dreamily, the unhurried movements of his friend. He seemed so peaceful, so casual, sitting there on the bed next to him. The man moved closer, resting a hand on his friend’s chest, slowly daring to press the other against the opposite shoulder. Saint-Just smirked, glancing to him before he looked down to his boots again. Robespierre’s left hand came up to Saint-Just’s cheek, brushing the curls away from his face and combing them, delicately, to the back of his ear. Saint-Just was still smiling as Robespierre traced the side of his jaw, up to his earlobe. Absent-mindedly, he started playing with the golden hoop earring, holding it between his index and thumb.

“Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“The hoop.”

“No.” Saint-Just placed his feet on the wooden floor, his boots now removed. He turned to look at his friend, smiling with curiosity. “It hurt a bit, once, but it doesn’t now. Why are you asking?”

“No reason.”

“Really?”

“Aren’t they heavy, at times?”

Saint-Just waited to undo at least three buttons of his waistcoat before he answered. “Do you want to take them off?”

“Can you?”

“Of course I can. But do _you_ want to take them off?”

“I wouldn’t know...”

“Sure you want to.”

Saint-Just took off his waistcoat and neglectfully threw it on the floor in front of them. Moving closer to Robespierre, he showed his left ear, as he brushed and held his hair on the other side of his neck. The older man tentatively approached his hands and delicately took the cool ring, on both side of the lobe, between his fingers. He paused. A hesitation. Saint-Just sensed it.

“What is it?”

“I’ve just...” Robespierre stammered. “I’ve just realised I had never taken off earrings.”

Saint-Just grinned. “Just tug on the ring, where your fingers are.”

Robespierre did so, uncertainly, pulling the wire out of the tube and out of Saint-Just’s left ear. 

“You see, it wasn’t so complicated, less so than putting them on.” The younger man smirked when his friend timidly handed him the hoop. “But now that you’ve had some practice,” he began as he slowly bent towards Robespierre. He rested his head on his friend’s lap, now showing his right ear. “You still have one to remove.” Robespierre smiled down to his friend and brushed his fingers against Saint-Just’s own smile, lightly, slowly, just before he removed the second hoop. Indeed, it was easier than the first time. Saint-Just rose and reached towards the chair, where he could safely put his earrings between Robespierre’s waistcoat and the men’s cravats. However, Robespierre caught him in his movement and swiftly embraced his chest, suddenly kissing his neck. Saint-Just heard the metallic sound of one of his earrings rolling on the floor as his friend pushed him down the bed, his mouth attached to the younger man’s left lobe. Robespierre suckled on it, licking where the earring used to be, and repeating the same action to the other ear. When he was done – or when he had earned enough moans – Robespierre moved up to look at his friend’s languid eyes. He pinched a lobe between two fingers, looking at the small hole at the centre of it. Suddenly, he seemed concerned, an expression of worry on his brow.

“I always feared the holes would be bigger.”

Saint-Just laughed, and then grinned widely. “Robespierre, you’re ridiculous.” He embraced his friend tightly, pulling him closer. “And I love you.”


End file.
